The Possibilities Are Endless
by evilsregal
Summary: Yet another collection of one-shots. This one, however, will contain only AU's or Crossovers. They will all focus on Regina Mills, and/or Outlaw Queen. Requests and/or prompts welcome. Latest Instalment: The Walking Dead.
1. Chapter 1

_AU/**CROSSOVER**: Divergent_

_**SUMMARY**__: It's not easy being a Divergent, when you're being hunted by someone who's faction values intelligence. But it's even harder when you're in love with her. _

_**NOTES**__: Scroll down._

* * *

**IN SPITE OF FEAR**

* * *

_'I am brave. I am courageous. I am fearless. I am Dauntless.'_

It's a mantra he repeats daily. In the morning, when he wakes. During the day, when he feels weak. At night, before he sleeps. Over and over and over again. He has too, otherwise, he'll forget. Years have passed since his Choosing, but he remembers it vividly. He was one of the lucky ones. One of the few who had someone watching his back. And he's grateful, he is. But he has hidden for far longer than he can remember now, and he's starting to slip.

Because he's not Dauntless.

He's Divergent.

But he'll pretend not to be.

He tells himself it's for the best. That it's to keep himself safe, and alive. But that's a lie too. It's not for him.

It's for her.

He was born an Erudite, but he'd been an Abnegation from the start. His father wasn't pleased. He'd done everything he could to change him, to make him 'see the light'. But he'd known form the start that he was different. He was selfless, and he was honest, and he was brave and kind and smart. All five factions were represented in his heart - the heart he gave to her.

Regina.

He knew what he was before the Choosing, but even then, it was a secret. And he had suspected her of it too, for she was nothing like her mother, or his father. But if she wasn't Divergent, than she was Dauntless - of that, he was sure. And he knew her well, he'd been in love with her since they were young. Choosing Dauntless had been a no-brainer for him. He'd be with her, and he'd be protecting the people. He'd be helping them, something he felt his father never did. So whilst he sat amongst his peers, the initiates he'd soon jump out of a moving train with, he grinned as her name was called and she appeared in blue, with her hair long and braided. That grin fell as her palm hovered over a bowl, and_ 'Erudite'_ rung through the room. She looked at him briefly, a flicker of something in her eye, before she in turn looked toward her mother, and returned to her seat.

It was that flicker that kept him quiet.

It was that flicker that kept him sane.

Somehow, he'd managed to remain hidden amongst the faction most thought mad. And he saw her often. Or, as often as he could. As often as they were allowed. They'd even shared a kiss.

Late at night, with her still in her office, having moved up the ranks quickly, he startled her. Training had come in handy, and it was easier then to sneak in to the building than it had been when he was eight. Slipping through the door that was already closed, she had clearly been to invested in her work to hear him approach. And he'd grinned when she jumped with his hand on her shoulder, her own pressed hard against her chest.

"Robin?"

Robin. It's not his name. Not his real name, at least. But she'd always called him that, and when given the opportunity to step even further away from his father, whilst somehow managing to keep her close - well, clearly he jumped at it. They were older now, and her hair was shorter, but she was still stunning, and he told her so.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Why?"

"I missed you."

He shrugged casually but his heart was singing a symphony against his chest. He had been sure that she could hear it beating, but all she did was smile, and laugh, and he did the same. He sat on her desk, or rather, leaned against the edge, and though her lips pursed a little, she said nothing, and rolled her eyes.

"You're going to get in trouble."

"I'll be fine."

And she stared at him, raising her eyebrow slowly.

"Okay... You're going to get _me_ in trouble."

And he laughed, leaning closer, bending down a little as he did.

"Scared?"

"Aren't you?"

"No."

She muttered _'Of course...'_ under her breath as she leaned back in her chair, and Robin chuckled. He watched her then, quietly, as she seemed to stare at nothing - until he realised she was staring at him. Or rather, his arm. Looking down, his lips began to curve as he dropped his arm and turned it over, showing the tattoo he'd added since he last saw her. "Like it?" he asked, and she hummed softly, reaching out with one hand to trace the ink with two fingers.

"It suits you."

As she admired it, his hand grasped her elbow and she looked up quickly, startled as he urged her to stand and step closer. She did, mostly because she'd always been too curious for her own good but also because he was stronger than she remembered - and she found she quite liked that. "What are yo-"

He silenced her with a kiss. It was gentle, and soft, and all he did was press his lips against her own, but she stiffened regardless and his stomach dropped. But then she was kissing him back, her lips parting under his and allowing his tongue to search for her own. His other arm, the one she wasn't currently gripping tightly, wound around her waist as he stepped away from her desk and pulled her closer.

This felt good.

This felt right.

And Regina sighed softly as she pulled away, eyes closed and brow furrowed as she muttered gently. "Robin..." It was a warning, he knew, but also a plead, and he smiled sadly. "Regina, I -"

"I know."

She interrupted him, eyes open and staring deep in to his own, and he felt that yes, she did know. And maybe she felt the same. He sighed nonetheless, resigning himself to the knowledge that it would be some time before he could see her again. With the way things were currently, with the scrutiny Abnegation were beginning to fall under, he couldn't afford frequent visits.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded.

"You should go."

It was a dismissal, but a half-hearted one, and he nodded in return, his gaze averting slightly. Maybe it was by chance, or maybe it was intention, but he found himself glancing at her work he'd distracted her from, and his blood ran cold at the one word that managed to stand out.

"Divergents?"

He didn't see her reaction, but he heard her hum in question before following his line of eyesight - and she tensed. "Oh, that..."

"You're hunting them?"

His throat felt thick and tight, and his heart began to sink. What did this mean for him? What did this mean for them? Did she know? How long has she known? Was his name on the list?

Regina nodded beside him, bending slightly to rest her hand on the mouse pad as she scrolled down. "The council have made some changes. They're new and experimental, at the moment, but by the time they're done, we should have them all rounded up."

"Why?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she turned her head to look at him. "Because they're... dangerous?" She spoke as if it were obvious. As if he should have known that already and he did, he knew that's what everyone else thought but he didn't know she thought that too. "You really believe that?"

"Yes."

He stared at her then, searching her eyes for something, anything - and he found the flicker. Robin smiled tightly, though she didn't notice for she'd closed her eyes as he leaned closer. He kissed her forehead, and muttered. "I should go." And she nodded, smiling at him even as he turned to leave - but she stopped him, calling out...

"Robin?" She waited for him to turn, before continuing with a tilt of her head. "Can you keep an eye on your initiates? If you notice anything, if you suspect one of them could be a Divergent... let me know?"

He was both angry and relieved.

Angry that she'd asked him turn Divergents in.

And relieved that she didn't know he was one.

"Of course."

* * *

_**NOTE**: So... I watched 'Divergent' for the first time tonight. Can you tell? Anyway, this is not a new story. Not really. I'm about half-way through the last instalment of 'Four Minutes' and this little scenario popped in to my head after watching the movie with my mother, so I decided to just go ahead and write it. I quite love AU's and Crossovers. They're my favourite thing to write because I feel it gives you a little more leeway in terms of characterisation. Of course, I try to keep the characters as close to canon as I possibly can, but that doesn't mean I can't have a bit of fun twisting them around._

_Basically, no. It's not a new story. It is, in fact, one of those collections of one-shots that every author seems to have at some point or another. I will be placing all my random one-shots that fall in to the category of either an Alternate Universe or a Crossover. They will all, pretty much, be whatever strikes my fancy._

_I had a bit of trouble deciding on where I wanted to place Regina, to be honest. It was easy for me to faction the rest of the cast of 'Once Upon A Time', but Regina is just too complex for me to be completely confident in my choice. I feel I've justified it by relating her choice to Cora, but ultimately, I feel like Regina would otherwise be a Dauntless. Let me know what you thought. I'd love to hear your opinions._

_This note was rather lengthy, but I do not think the following few will be._

_**FEEL FREE TO REQUEST AND/OR PROMPT AN AU SCENARIO OR A CROSSOVER. YOU CAN DO SO BY REVIEWING, OR SENDING ME AN ASK ON MY TUMBLR: PARRILLAD. XO**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**AU**/CROSSOVER: Hollywood AU_

_**TRIGGER WARNING**: Mentions domestic abuse, some smut._

_**NOTES**: Scroll down._

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**_PAGE. 23_**

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They say she reminds them of _'The Golden Age'_. Poised and composed. She walks the red carpet with an elegance reminiscent of the late 1920′s, with her head held high and just the right amount of curve to her lip. She's well spoken and polite, a professional at her finest. Well-dressed, of course. She rarely ever falls flat of perfection. Her work is far and few between. It takes her months to choose a script, because above all else, she is a perfectionist. That is abundantly clear on set.

She loves the camera.

But she'd rather work behind it than in front.

Regina Mills is a casting director's dream. Even with her moniker, _'The Evil Queen'_ \- a name she was titled with after rumours of her supposedly _'diva-like'_ attitude began to circulate, and she - in a fit of frustration, growled at a journalist attempting to shove a microphone down her throat. She's embraced it now, presents herself with a metaphoric crown upon her head and it seems to have done wonders for her career anyway.

No harm, no foul.

The next script to land in her lap isn't something she'd ordinarily be interested in. It falls under _'romance'_ and Regina's experience in that regard is sorely lacking. She prefers to take on the kind of roles that fans love to hate; the antagonist, the bitch, the villain. Her roles helped fuel her trademark, helped make her the actress she is - and she didn't want to deter from something she knew she was great at, to something she had no idea about.

But _'Page. 23′_ was something she simply couldn't resist.

It was the kind of script that made her heart ache. It had her breath hitching and catching in her throat with every turn of the page. It was darker than most of the eye-rolling chick flicks she was often propositioned with, though the title was misleading, and Regina had called her agent the moment the back page flipped shut.

She would be playing the victim of domestic abuse, a woman who married young and thought that love at first sight was a two-way-street. She would have a son, and would find comfort in written words. Reading would lead to writing, and that would lead to a book. Unpublished, untitled, and left behind on a park bench. Twenty-three pages of nothing but her own train of thought, the life and times of a woman trapped, and that book would be found by a man, just looking for a place to sleep.

Ordinarily, she wouldn't be interested in something like this. It bordered something that hit a bit too close to home for her, and the whole point of becoming an actor was to get away from what had been her life, a long, long time ago.

But _'Page. 23′_ wasn't the kind of story where the white knight saved the damsel in distress and they lived happily ever after. It was darker than that. It was crueler than that, and it ended with her head on his shoulder, and a graveyard.

She saves herself.

But in saving herself, she loses everything.

And that's why she's interested.

She doesn't know who will be playing her husband, or her son, or the man she's supposed to fall in love with - but she knows that her mother hates the script, and that just makes her want to do it all the more. So when she's told that her leading man will be a newcomer named Robin Locksley, she just nods, shrugs, and moves on.

The first time they meet, she doesn't actually realise it's him. He knows who she is, of course, but Regina's never seen him before. They run in to each other long before they're due for the first table read. At the airport, where she's flying home after an interview in the UK and he's flying to LA from home in the UK. He accidentally bumps her with his elbow as he's stowing his carry-on and though he apologises, all she does is glare at him and turn away.

He probably could have introduced himself then, but where would the fun be in that?

He takes the time their flight offers to watch her, discretely. She's not very social, he notes. She reads, and when she's not reading, she's sleeping, or pretending to sleep. She doesn't eat on the flight, and he wonders if it's because she's just not hungry or if it's a thing of hers - maybe he'll find out one day.

She bites her lip when she's particularly focused, invested in her book which he realises three hours later is actually the script of the film he's supposed to fall in love with her in - and he'd be reading his too, but she offers the perfect opportunity to get to know his A-List co-star without actually getting to know her.

He can't risk her noticing his script, just because he wants to go over his lines until he knows them in his sleep.

Whether she noticed him watching her, she doesn't say. And she doesn't bring it up hours later, whilst they're both suffering a serious case of jet-lag and she's staring at him with a furrowed brow and the barest glint of recognition in her eye.

"Robin Locksley, meet Regina Mills. Regina, this is Robin."

He sticks his hand out, and she glances down at it slowly before her gaze travels up his arm. It lingers for a moment on the tattoo he'd been too drunk to say no to at sixteen, before rising up his chest, his neck, his jaw, before she finally meets his eye - and she smirks.

She shakes his hand, but she does so daintily, before dropping it as if he were the plague and she had no business associating with him. _'The Evil Queen'_ indeed, he thinks, but he smiles despite that.

They start their table read, and Regina is the first to have a line. Robin waits with bated breath, eager to learn and eager to witness the genius that is Regina Mills - and he's not disappointed. The director is someone she's worked with before, so he knows what he's getting in to - but most everyone else is new to Regina's style, and she is a method actor at heart. Her voice is softer than her usual throaty drawl. She almost sounds... younger, and it amazes him as she reads aloud.

They read, and they laugh, and there's a moment of silence at some point, then another later on. The ten year old who will be playing her son sits beside her, and they're already as thick as thieves. She whispers in his ear when there's a word he doesn't understand, and they play tic tac toe with a spare piece of paper she'd pilfered from one of the producers.

They pass the sole sex scene in the film with a quick glance between Robin and Regina, before moving on. It's as they reach a particularly violent scene, the only one that will be seen on camera, that the room quietens. Regina's eye meets Leo's and he smiles at her kindly, even as his character wraps his hands around her neck.

It's a tense scene, one that will make or break this movie but the writers are brilliant, and the director even better, so she knows that it will be done tastefully. It's a touchy subject for a lot of people, and they want to bring to light the very real issue of domestic abuse in todays society. But the story isn't supposed to be about violence, not really. It's supposed to be about survival, and matters of the heart.

Robin has a tear in his eye as he listens to Regina choke through her final monologue, the one her character cries through whilst kneeling at her son's grave, and Henry, the child actor who will be playing said son, leans in to her side as she she flips the page.

It's a good script, a really good script, and if it's done right, it could be a great movie. Something to be proud of. And he admires her even more for taking on the role.

The press speculate months later. Robin and Regina decide to go out to lunch, because they're supposed to be intimate together on-screen and it would probably help if they get to know one another off it. It goes... surprisingly well, and both of them can't help but wonder what it would be like if they'd rehearsed a kiss or two.

They spend a year in production. Working on _'Page. 23′ _is different than any of her other works. Maybe it's because she's supposed to play a mother in this one, and Henry quickly worms his way in to her heart. She takes pictures with him, pokes her tongue out and kisses his cheek, growls at the camera with chopsticks as fangs - and he posts them all online, to his twitter account, something she doesn't have. Not until he makes her one, and her first post is a picture of the two of them, with Robin jumping in at the last second.

_E!News_ runs a true or false segment about the two of them, Robin and Regina. Are they dating? It seems to be a popular question, after they were photographed together holding hands, after he posted a picture of him kissing her temple.

They laugh about it, until it happens.

It's after the sex scene is filmed. Because they're half-naked and even though it's not nearly as sexy as most people seem to think - there's a lot of technical choreography that goes in to these scenes and they spend hours with him hovering above her. There a good ten takes of him unable to keep a straight face as she moans his character's name, and the eleventh has her punching him in the shoulder.

But they get it done, and then they're joking about it the next day, and one thing leads to another, and she ends up straddling him in the living room of the apartment he rented for the duration of production.

He finds himself obsessed with her back, can't keep his hands to himself. His palms run up her spine and she arches in to his touch, feels her breath stutter in her chest, and this is nothing like it was yesterday. His lips find purchase on her neck, his tongue slipping from his lips to run up her throat and she moans deeply, rocks her hips in to his and his hand drops, slides between her legs and -

She is wet and warm and he slides in to her with a groan. The pace he sets is slow, because it's been a while for her and, admittedly, a while for him too, so they need time adjust. But soon enough, she's rolling her hips and he's thrusting up with a hand on her waist. She comes, and he follows, and they're so worn out that they fall asleep on the sofa and don't wake up until the early morning.

There's a reason Regina doesn't get too close to her co-workers, and there's a reason she doesn't get in to relationships with them. It makes things awkward, and could screw their entire dynamic up - but there's just something about Robin that makes this an entirely different situation.

He doesn't let her pull away from him. He doesn't ignore what happened but he doesn't bring it to light. He tugs her hair every now and then and kisses her cheek a lot more often, but he's still the idiot that makes her laugh on set and _'The Evil Queen' _can't help but find herself smitten.

When filming ends, it's a sad affair, but Regina and Henry ( his family too ) are all ridiculously close now so it's not like they won't ever see each other again. But Robin has to go back to England, and she won't see him for a month, at least.

They start dating, but they do so quietly.

It's not until the premier of _'Page. 23′_, when they walk the red carpet holding hands, that they go public.

* * *

_**NOTE**: So, this was prompted to me over on my Tumblr ( parrillad ). Anonymous asked: OQ + Hollywood AU. I will admit, I was a little hesitant about the premise of the film I had them working on, because it really is such a touchy subject. Anyway, what do you guys think about it? It's a little darker than I usually write... _


	3. Chapter 3

_**AU**/CROSSOVER: Vampire AU_

_**TRIGGER WARNING**: It's get's a little bit detailed, but not much. There are mentions of blood and death though._

_**NOTES**: Scroll down._

* * *

_**POWER AND CONTROL**_

* * *

"I have a son," he blurted out, his heart racing and his throat dry. She could taste his fear, could hear the steady beat of his heart, like drums in her head, and it drew out a slow, predatory smile. He was afraid, but he stood with his head held high. Just as brave as he was foolish, and she laughed. He shivered as a dark, throaty chuckle caressed his skin, bounced off stone walls, and if only he could see her. If only she would allow the light to shine. Maybe then he wouldn't be quite as frightened. Maybe then, he could breathe when he speaks.

"Then why are you here?"

It's the first time he heard her voice, beyond the laughter that she threw at him, and it crawls it's way through his body, sinks in his stomach and tightens in his throat. It cooled his blood and he swallowed, clenching his teeth as well as his hands, forming fists by his side.

She is a monster, he reminds himself. A succubus, a man eater — a vampire. He has heard tales of her exploits, everyone has. She is a story told by firelight, and he can still remember the first time he ever heard her name._ Regina._ He was but a child then, listening to his father spin a tale of death and deceit. They call her The Queen, for that is her name, and he remembers the haunted look in his mother's eye.

Few have seen her, and returned alive.

Julianna was one of them.

Hopefully, Robin will be another.

"Because… I have a son."

Her response made his heart stop, if only for a beat, and he turned in the dark with squinting eyes. He can't see. The shadows are too thick, and the sole source of light comes from the fire he holds, the torch he brought in with him. He can't see… but he can hear.

"You're a pretty thing, thief," she cooed, her voice singing from his left. But then he turns, and she laughs, and her voice comes at him from his right. "Your heart is strong, and your blood…" there is a pause, a lull of silence in which he can hear her inhaling deeply, "… I can already taste it."

Wind brushed the nape of his neck, the flames flickered by movement unseen, and he held his breath. "Why are you here?" she hissed through her teeth, right in to his ear, and his eyes widened. He turned quickly, head first, quickly followed by the rest of him, but she is gone, and her laughter rings in his head.

"I…" he began, but he had to stop to gather his thoughts, to choose his words carefully. "There are… rumours. I've heard talk of war, that the North are amassing an army, and King George… he is not known for his kindness."

"Oh?"

He is not surprised by the lack of concern in her voice. She sounds amused, and he is just thankful that she has yet to sink her teeth in to his throat. He continued, secure with the knowledge that his son would be well cared for, whether he returns to him or not. "I want to protect my son. And my family. King Richard is not strong enough on his own, he will fall to George and —"

"And you think I'll help you," she finished for him, the amusement ever present, and he nodded. "I do, yes."

"Why?"

The darkness is disconcerting. It unsettled him, for he can see nothing but shadows, and bones. They turn to dust under his feet, his steps heavy, but he ignored it all for her. "My mother… she told me about you once. I remember, she never listened to the stories my father told. He called you a monster, and she flinched. I thought — I thought that she was afraid of you."

"She should be."

"She wasn't." His voice deepened then, firm and adamant and she can feel the love he holds for his mother. It makes her sick. "She told me that she met you once. A long time ago, when she was a little girl. She was lost, she had wandered away, and you found her. Alone. In the dark. Crying."

Silence.

He can hear nothing but his own shifting from foot to foot, the sounds of fire crackling, his voice drifting off in to nothingness.

But she is silent, until —

"… Julianna."

Her voice is soft, his mother's name breathed from her lips, and he startled. So… she remembered. He hadn't believed her at first. _Regina_ didn't save people. She killed them. But Julianna had insisted that the Queen had lead her home, with a single finger pressed to her lips and her voice whispering _'shhhhhh'_ in her ear.

"I need your help. George will spare no one and, my son, he…" Robin choked on his words. He closed his eyes, as he resigned himself to his fate. "Please… I will do… anything, to protect him."

He felt the change in the wind, the way it whipped by his side and ghosted over his skin, and he shivered. He stepped back, and felt his blood run cold as he collided with something ( or someone! ) who was as moveable as the mountain he'd scaled.

She stood behind him then, and slowly, he turned, until the fire he held danced over her face, and he near dropped it. She was… stunning. He had no words to truly describe her, with her dark eyes and her dark lips, hair long and cascading over one shoulder, the curve of her neck a minor distraction compared to the dip between her breasts. He couldn't quite see the clothes she wore, if she wore any at all, and he swallowed before forcing his gaze to rise, and he paled at the grin that curved her lips.

She was… a vision, one that he could no doubt waste away staring at. Her teeth bared through her lips, white and clean, the tips angled enough to no doubt pierce his skin, and she leaned forward.

"I want your heart," she purred, and he felt his knees weaken, the desire to bow at her feet and worship every inch of her skin overwhelming his senses, and he blinked slowly. "My… heart?"

Red lips pursed in to a pout that caused all of his blood to fall south, and he swallowed as she nodded, reaching up with a hand half curled in to a fist, one lone finger elongated, and she rest her nail against his chest, directly over her price.

"I can give you strength, and power… Enough to fell any army you dare cross. But in return, I want your heart."

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach, and he inhaled sharply. If he did this, if he sold his soul ( or rather, his heart ), than he would never see his son again. He knew what she was offering. He had heard of a similar deal being struck in the West, with a Lord greedy, and selfish. The man had become an animal, a beast who thrived on blood, not unlike the creature who stood before him with a dark glint in ordinarily crimson eyes. But he had lost his mind, and had succumbed to the might of wolves, after slaughtering his entire village in one night.

Was that what he wanted?

No.

But what he wanted was Roland's safety, and he would take a possibility of a probability.

So he nodded, cleared his throat, and choked out his assent. "Deal."

She was still for a moment, merely staring at him with a cocked head and a raised brow, a grin wide and victorious, before she flew at him fast, and hard. He stumbled back, his hands falling to her waist as she lifted herself up and pressed her body against his. One hand moved to his head, her fingers grasping strands of his hair and she tugged violently, forced his head to bend back and tilt, before she bowed her head and sunk her teeth in his neck.

Pain.

Everything was pain.

He saw red and cried out, screamed in agony but she didn't let go, and he felt fire in his blood. Robin dropped the torch, heard it fall against rocks as she drank, and he burned. His hands shook as she sucked at his neck and moaned. His breath caught in his throat, his teeth clenched in a bid to keep quiet, before the pain began to subside and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

It began to cool, and he groaned as the hurt began to bleed in to pleasure. She pulled away from his neck, used her hand still tangled in his hair to life his head and force him to look her in the eye. He strained his neck, an addiction beginning to form in his bones, and he soon found himself walking forwards, pushing her against jagged rock and stone, and she smirked at him, moved her hand down his jaw until she was gripping his chin, her thumb brushing the corner of his lips and he parted them willingly.

Red blood dripped over her lip, smearing over her chin, and he watched it slide down her pale skin, transfixed, until she opened her mouth and dove forward, kissing him hard, and he groaned aloud. The fire from his torch began to dire out as he kissed her back, and felt his own blood begin to slide down his throat.

His heart beat rapidly, too fast to be healthy and he gasped, choking in the pain of it before he fell to his knees, and she followed. Straddling his hips, she leaned over him as he lay down on his back and screwed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth, and she watched in satisfaction as his heart gave away.

And she smiled.

* * *

_**NOTE**: Cliché title is a cliché. Oh well. This was, again, prompted to me over on Tumblr by an anon. I wasn't sure whether I was going to include it in my collection here, but I eventually decided to just go ahead and throw it in. I've got a basic outline for the next installment, so that should be coming soon. Anyway, I don't really have much else to say except thank you for reading, xoxo._


	4. Chapter 4

_**AU**/CROSSOVER: Speed Dating AU_

_**NOTES**: Scroll Down._

* * *

_**DON'T KNOCK IT TILL YOU TRY IT**_

* * *

_'Is it just me, or is it incredibly hot in here?'_ Regina shifted in her seat, her back twisting as she crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in her chair. It was ridiculously uncomfortable, and the wine quality the bar had to offer was laughable, at best. A quick glance around the room told her that the night did not look promising. Not that she'd had high hopes to begin with. Hell, she didn't even want to be here.

She scowled harder as she reached out for her glass, braving the bitter taste of cheap red with a name Regina's never even heard of. Which, is understandable. She only ever drinks the best, and this most definitely is not it. From her left, she heard Rose clicking her tongue, leaning closer to her so as to whisper, "You could at least pretend to be having fun."

Regina's nose scrunched. She swallowed what little she'd drank before turning to the blonde she'd stupidly called a friend. "But I'm not," she drawled, lips pursed, one arm folded around her stomach as she set the glass back down on the table.

"That's why I said _'pretend'_, Regina."

Regina rolled her eyes, choosing not to answer and, instead, sink further down her seat in protest. Perhaps it was a little childish, and really, her mother would have a coronary if she saw Regina's posture. But in her defense, she was here against her will, and she refused to act like she was happy about it.

"So… your name's Regina?"

Slowly, her gaze rose from the table top to the man sitting opposite her, and she almost smiled as he near flinched at her glare. Eight minutes in, and she hadn't said a word. It was perhaps the most awkward date in history, but as far as Regina was concerned, this entire thing was awkward.

Speed dating.

What idiot came up with that idea?

Regina's foot bounced in the air as she turned her attention to her phone. She wasn't supposed to have it with her. Rose wanted to confiscate it, but separating a business woman, and a mother, from her phone was not an easy task, and Rose was too fond of her fingers to try too hard. The poor man opposite slumped a little, resigning himself to the final two minutes in silence with the one woman in the entire room who looked like she'd rather bite off her own arm than be here.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't run from her table the moment the bell had rung.

Regina, on the other hand, didn't seem to even notice. Her eyes glued to her cell screen, one finger delicately sliding up length wise, she looked just as disinterested in everything going on around her as she had since the start of this farce, nearly an half an hour ago. She did, actually, notice when Tom, or Tim, whatever, had left. And she'd actually smiled… kind of. It was as close to a smile as anything anyone had seen of her so far, but still, she didn't look up.

Until a good three minutes had passed in silence and she found herself frowning, confused. Was it over? Had the idiots in charge of this ridiculous event finally decided to spare their men the embarrassment of facing her? Because usually, by now, she'd have had the next one's name, age, employment details, and probably the name of their dog or cat or turtle.

Looking up, Regina's hand, and consequently the phone in it, lowered slightly. It wasn't over, and she hadn't been spared the misfortune of another date. Rather, a man sat opposite her, with his own phone out and his head bowed. It took her a moment to grasp the idea of someone _not_ interested in her, and honestly, it was quite annoying.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't look up straight away. He finished typing something out before finally dragging his gaze to meet hers, and she blinked at the blueness of his eyes. "Same thing you are," he shrugged, and Regina scoffed.

"I highly doubt you're ordering a white Soleado Sectional worth over three thousand dollars."

The man stared, before canting his head to the side with an amused smirk.

"Shop-a-holic?"

And Regina scowled.

"Interior Decorator."

"Ah," he nodded, before looking back down at his phone.

Regina's jaw locked, her teeth clenched, as she sat a little straighter and glared. Was that it? Really? Sure, Regina absolutely didn't want to be here, but ignoring her _'dates'_ was her only source of entertainment here. She was the one who was supposed to look bored, not the other way around.

Looking him over, she had to admit, he was… attractive. Sand-coloured hair, and a little scruff. She already knew his eyes were an impossible shade of blue, but observing him a little closer, she saw small indentations in his cheeks, and she just knew that when he smiled, he'd have dimples. He was well built. Not overly big and muscled, but not skinny and scrawny either. He was no doubt taller than her, but only a little with her heels on. The clothes he wore weren't… terrible. At least it wasn't plaid, though he did look like the kind to own a flannel shirt or two.

And Regina found herself wanting to know his name.

Of course, that only made her glare intensify. She was a stubborn woman. Something she could at least admit too. So naturally, she refused to ask for it, and instead turned her attention back to her phone, and the email she'd gotten from the client wanting to match white with a bright orange.

At least it was white, and not green or purple.

Her nose crinkled in distaste as they sat in silence for another two minutes or so, but then she looked up when a bang shook the table, and the man swore under his breath. If she had to guess, she'd say he hit his knee on the metal support, apparently hard, and Regina couldn't stop the breath of laughter from passing her lips.

It wasn't a snort.

And she'd deny it if he said it was.

But he merely grinned sheepishly at her, a victorious glint in his eye, and it occurred to her then that he's succeeded in something everyone else had not.

Not only did she tell him something about herself, but he'd made her laugh. Albeit, at his own expense, but she laughed nevertheless.

She expected him to say something, to make a joke or ask a question, but all he did was rub his knee and return to his phone, and that threw Regina just as hard as him not introducing himself had. Beside her, she could tell, Rose was giving Regina's date a once over, and probably approving instantly. Of course she would. He was the only one so far to make any head-way with her, and he wasn't even trying! Huffing softly, Regina rolled her eyes and stared hard at her cell, refusing to look up until the bell had rung and her_ 'date' _stood up.

"Well… that was fun," he quipped cheerily, and she thought that he actually believed that their allotted ten minutes was pleasant. "Enjoy your shopping, milady."

Regina blinked. Milady? And then watched him sit at Rose's table, engaging her immediately in conversation about overseas and how different America was to home. Her jaw locked to the right, and she wondered what the hell was wrong with her, if he didn't so much as introduce himself.

Not that she cared.

She didn't want to be here anyway.

But through the following painstakingly annoying date, Regina found her gaze drifting to the left, and her scowl only deepened each time. Damn it, damn it, damn it! She wasn't interested. She wasn't… Regina stood quickly, mussing her hair a little as she did so, before leaving her current _'date'_ behind and heading to the bar. The wine was terrible, but their Vodka probably wasn't too bad.

And she needed a drink.

He found her twenty minutes later, sitting on a stool at the bar with her glass half full, because she didn't have it in her too drink like that again, and she had a son to think about being sober for… even if he had Emma now.

"Robin," he said, standing beside her and leaning on the bar sideways.

"What?"

He smiled.

"My name. It's Robin."

Regina's brow rose as she shrugged, seemingly uncaring. "You're a little late on the introduction." Robin merely laughed. "Yes, well, I was hoping I could do that when I asked you to share a drink with me."

"We just spent ten minutes ignoring each other already, why would I want to subject myself to that again?" She snapped, irritable as she was hungry, hungry as she was tired. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that Rose didn't intend to leave any time soon, and so she was stuck here until her blonde friend decided she'd tortured Regina enough for one night.

"Ah, you see — I didn't want to be here, and it occurred to me when I saw you, that you didn't either. So rather than force you in to participating in small talk, I thought it'd be much easier to accomplish such a feat if you had an actual choice."

She stared at him, before a smirk finally graced her lips and she cocked her head to the side. "You've put a lot of thought in to this." And Robin grinned. "Is that a yes?"

Hesitating for a minute, her lips pursed in thought, she finally sighed and nodded her head, sliding from her seat at the bar. Because if she was going to actually attempt_ 'drinks' _with a relative, though attractive, stranger, than she was going to do so somewhere that didn't make her want to shower twice.

"Regina," she finally said, introducing herself with an outstretched hand. She expected him to shake it, at the least, and was surprised when he, instead, held her hand softly and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles with a cheeky smile.

Well… fuck.

* * *

_**NOTE**: Yet another Tumblr prompt. This was really fun to write, actually. I mean, all of them have been really fun to write, but this one in particular, I couldn't stop grinning as I wrote it. Anyway, the next couple of installments will be crossovers, as the last few have been au's. I want to take the time to thank everyone who have reviewed so far, and to everyone on Tumblr who had been so kind and encouraging. It really means a lot guys, and I'm glad you like what I've done so far. Xo._


	5. Chapter 5

_AU/**CROSSOVER**: Harry Potter_

_**NOTES**: Scroll down._

* * *

_**UNDER YOUR SPELL**_

* * *

They fight constantly. Arguments would grow from the tiniest disagreement until curses start to fly. Their voices echo through the corridors, and their peers had long ago learned that interrupting their spats was beneficial to no one and was, in fact, quite dangerous. Regina was quick with her wand, just as quick as she was with her silver tongue, and Robin had wit that rivaled the ravens. He had a repertoire of spells that few could match too, but he'd never raise his wand against her. Even though she liked to curse him at every opportunity.

It's expected. Her robes are green and silver, his are red and gold. They're supposed to fight like cats and dogs, like snakes and lions.

It's not real.

"Get out of my way, Locksley."

"Oh, of course Your Majesty, right away Your Majesty, whatever you say Your Majesty."

He bowed, a cheeky grin putting a dent in his cheek, and her eyes narrowed. The sarcasm was obvious, the condescending tone of his voice... it made her jaw lock and her hands clench in to fists by her side. Regina sneered, her upper lip curling. "Are you mocking me?"

Robin smiled, and it made her blood boil. She ground her teeth together, silent as she glared at him hatefully, and her sister hissed at him through her teeth. "Filthy mudblood." Robin's smile fell slowly, and his eyes grew dark and cold as he shifted his gaze from Regina, to Zelena, and Regina flinched internally. This game they played, the back and forth banter, the curses and the insults and the very public arguments, it was for them and them alone. Robin knew what buttons to push, and what to leave be, just as Regina knew the same for him.

Her mother, for example.

His blood, for another.

_( It was a lie, anyway. Regina knew that, because the game was just that - a game. She knew that his father was a lord, that he held a seat on the Wizengamot. It was his mother who'd been born to muggles, not him. But Zelena didn't know that. All she knew was that he came to school in tattered clothes and second-hand robes. She didn't know him like Regina did. )_

Robin had a code that he lived and breathed, morals that her sister just didn't understand, couldn't even fathom if he wrote them down and taught them to her. He was brave and courageous, he was a Gryffindor after all, but Regina'd always thought he suited the badgers more than he did the lions. Hard-working, and loyal, kind to a fault. He didn't stand for bullies. He stood for equality, and justice, and Regina knew that he was just moments away from ripping in to Zelena -

Regina turned, her fingers locking around her sisters arm and she pushed her back, scowl accompanying a roll of her eyes. "Leave it, 'Lena. He's not worth it. None of them are." Her voice lowered as she spoke in her sister's ear, pushing here back a little harder, but it carried as Zelena smirked, turning and falling in to step beside her.

Regina could feel his eyes watched her as she walked away, and her mouth ran dry. The feast that night was a quiet affair, and she'd begged off desert citing a headache. She left the table for the infirmary, but instead of turning towards the stairs, she moved towards the dungeons. It was cold, and dark, and Regina held her arms around her waist until she was startled, her yelp echoing through empty halls.

He released her as soon as he'd pulled her in to the closet, the door closing behind her. A quiet whisper of _'lumos'_ later, and she could finally see his face. Instead of scowling at him, instead of cursing him or slapping him, or insulting him through her teeth, she smiled, wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled him toward her with the other gripping his robes. His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her just as close as she him, before he bowed his head and captured her lips with his own, her head tilting back

Robins arms slid along her sides, winding around her back until his palms were resting on the small of her back. The kiss was sweet, and soft, and whilst she'd like nothing more than to take his lip between her teeth and feel him pressing her up against the wall, she could also feel the tension in his shoulders, the slight shudder of his chest as he breathed her in.

One of her arms moved, it fell until her palm pressed against his neck, her thumb rubbing small circles along his jaw, and she pulled away from him slowly, until she could tilt her head forward and rest her forehead against his. "I'm sorry," she whispered, biting her lower lip nervously. She has so much to apologise for already - the secrets they have to keep, the words she throws, the curses that leave him aching for days, and she adds that afternoon to the list of reasons why he'd be better off without her, to the list of reasons why he deserved better than kisses in closets and holding hands in the dark.

Tears prickle her eyes and she closes them to ensure they don't fall, and Robin says nothing. His eyes close too, and he holds her a little tighter, a little closer, silently telling her that it's okay, that he's okay... that he loves her. They stand like that for what feels like hours, until Regina starts to pull away.

And he lets her.

* * *

_**NOTES**: It's been a while since I last wrote, so this is unfortunately quite short. The shortest installment yet. This was also prompted by a reviewer:_

_**LUONCE**: Really liked both of these AU's,you're very talented i hope you know that. What about an harry potter AU ? In whatever situation you want, but with Robin a Griffindor and Regina a Ravenclow or a Slytherin, your choice. If you don't want to do it it's ok :)_

_So thank you! Also, a little heads up for those of you who don't follow my Tumblr, I will be turning one of these installments in to a multi-chapter fic. I put up a poll about a week ago asking whether people would prefer the Hollywood AU ( Page. 23 ) or the Vampire AU ( Power and Control ). I've made my decision, and I will start posting it once I have a few chapters written._


	6. Chapter 6

_**AU**/CROSSOVER: Childhood AU_

_**NOTES**: Scroll down._

* * *

_**THINKING OUT LOUD**_

* * *

He thinks about her sometimes. Wonders what she's doing, whether she ever got out of small town central, whether she thinks about him like he thinks about her. What does she look like now? Does she still wear glasses when she reads? Does she still wear her hair in a ponytail? Is she married yet? Does she have any kids?

He always thought she'd make a great mother. He used to tell her so when they were kids, used to make fun of her for being a mother hen at sixteen. She'd glare, then laugh, then punch him in the shoulder. Not that it ever really hurt, but he pretended it did, because it made her smile, and he loved to make her smile.

Because it was so rare that she did back then.

He hopes she's happier now.

Even if it's not with him.

And she looks happy when he sees her, years after he'd left town. It was the first time he'd stepped foot in Storybrooke in over ten years, and it looked exactly the same. Nothing had changed. Except her.

Robin stood in the doorway of Granny's Diner, his hands shoved in to his pockets as he drank in the sight of Regina after all these years. Her hair was shorter. It used to brush her lower back when untied but now it fell to just under her shoulders. He watched as she tucked loose strands behind her ear, bent at the waist as she fixed the tie of a young boy in front of her. Her son? His breath holds for a few seconds as she fusses over his clothes, brushes her palms along his shoulders and then grasps his chin between her thumb and curled forefinger. She says something, but he's not close enough to heat her speak. He watches the boy nod, smile and kiss her cheek, before he circles her quickly and races towards him. Robin has just enough time to step aside as the boy reaches for the door he stood in front of, throwing a loud 'Sorry!' over his shoulder as he ran down the path, through the gates and to the school bus that waited for him. Robin grinned, shaking his head as he watched the bus doors close, before he turned and found Regina standing exactly where she had been before her son had left her — but this time, she stood tall.

Regina had turned to watch Henry race off. She'd prepared herself to scold him, to call after him until he slowed down, but her words had died in her throat upon seeing him standing there, as if he'd never even left. He looked the same. A little older, obviously, but he hadn't changed much. And even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered.

She knew her best friend when she saw him.

"Robin…" she breathed, one hand pressed against her belly, the other hanging limply by her side, and he grinned. "Regina." They stared at each other, oblivious to the looks cast their way, oblivious to Granny calling out Regina's name, a steaming hot coffee in a take-away cup held in her hand. "Mayor Mills," she stressed, snapping Regina out of her reverie, and she almost blushed. Robin blinked, his gaze averting to the old woman who used to slap him upside the head in the mornings.

_( He needed it, though. Otherwise he would've fallen asleep in his eggs and Regina would've let him. ) _

Robin watched as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, handing over a ten dollar bill and telling Granny to keep the change, before she cradled her drink in her hands, the nails of her thumbs rubbing against each other. It was a habit of hers that he'd noticed the day he met her, but back then, it had been a juice box, not a double strength shot of caffeine. She was nervous, and confused, and over-thinking. She'd drive herself spare if she kept assuming, if she kept wondering, and Robin owed her an explanation.

It was one of the reasons he'd come back.

He stepped to the side, turning his body so one shoulder faced her and the other faced the door, before he pulled the handle and held it open for her. Regina's steps were tentative, at first, but her stride grew as she licked her lips and steeled herself.

This wasn't the Regina he knew.

The Regina he knew was an open book. The Regina he knew had light in her eyes. She was sweet, and soft. She said please and thank you and asked how you were. But this Regina... this Regina was different. Her eyes lifted to meet his as she passed him, and her step faltered slightly. He thought she'd stop, he thought she'd say something, anything... It would've been wishful thinking to believe she'd hug him, but anything would've been better than the blank stare she gave him, before hurrying out the door and down the step, her heels echoing on the pavement as she retraced her sons steps, turning right on the sidewalk.

Robin watched he leave, still holding the door open, and he blinked in confusion. What had happened after he left? His head turned, seeking out a familiar face and finding Granny staring right at him, her lips thin and her stare hard, until the barest hint of a smile curved her lips and she nodded her head, leaning forward on the bench, elbow on the counter and finger pointed in his direction. "S'about time you came back."

He stared at her for a moment, before swinging around the door and bounding down the three step incline. He reached out for the white picket fence, using it as momentum to push him around the corner as he raced after her. She was quick, and it surprised him. She used to wear flats, old converse or sneakers she'd stolen from his closet. Now, she wore heels that added a fair few inches to her height, and he was surprised to find her already around the corner. "Regina," he called out, but she kept walking.

Robin growled under his breath, picking up his pace a bit and reaching out to grasp her elbow. "Regina," he said again, and this time she stopped. It was a good thing that he was so light on his feet, otherwise he might have run right in to her. Slowly, she turned, her coffee held tightly in her hand, and she tilted her head at him. "Robin."

He almost flinched at the tone of her voice, and though a part of him felt slighted that their relationship, their friendship, had meant so little to her that a few years without contact had belittled him to nothing in her eyes, a bigger part felt that he deserved it. He wasn't sure what to say at first, but that clearly didn't matter seeing as he was quick to blurt out, "Hi."

And she stared at him like he had two heads and half a brain, before uttering an annoyed, "Hey," back. At least it was something. Albeit, not much. But something. Robin smiled, his dimples on full display, and it distracted her for a moment, dark mocha eyes falling to the dents in his cheeks before they rose again, this time accompanied by pursed lips.

Robin cleared his throat, releasing her arm and shoving his hands back in his pockets as he resisted the urge to rock back and forth on his heels. "So..." Apparently, that was the best he could come up with, despite having rehearsed several different topics and points of conversation, despite having gone over the first things he'd say to her if he were to be so lucky as to cross her path. Regina shifted awkwardly, glancing around for some means of a quick escape. It'd be so easy to just turn her back on him, to give him the cold shoulder, but something stopped her. He always managed to make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling.

"So..."

Okay, so maybe her shoulder was a little cold, but she couldn't help it if, even after all this time, she was still mad at him, still upset, still hurt. He smiled again, and she wondered whether he realised just how much it pained her to see him smile, when he'd been the cause of so many tears. "How're you?"

Seriously?

"Good."

"Good. That's good." Robin nodded, his hand rising to rub at the back of his neck. "I was wondering, y'know... whether I'd run in to you here. I mean, it's ben a while and I wasn't sure if -"

"Why are you here, Robin?" Regina sighed, stepping back.

"- My mum, she's sick."

"I know."

He smiled. Of course she did. He wouldn't be surprised if she still had dinner with his family every Sunday.

"Yeah well, she wanted me to come home for her birthday and I thought, y'know... why not? And, honestly, I missed you."

Regina's breath hitched and her brow furrowed. Her jaw steeled, locked in place as she drew up a face that reminder him of her mother, "You should've thought of that before you left." It was cold, and hurtful, and a low blow, but he deserved it and Regina didn't plan on letting him off the hook. He was her best friend once, and then he was just gone.

"Regina,"

"No. Don't _'Regina,'_ me. You left, Robin. You were here one day and then gone the next. No one would tell me where you went, no one would tell me why you left. I waited for you for two hours, Robin! You didn't even have the decency to send me a text. No phone call, no email. For fuck's sake, the least you could've done was send me a god damn post card."

"I know, Regina. Please..."

"No." She repeated, shaking her head and stepping back once, twice, three times. "I'm not interested, Robin. Go see your mother, spend time with her, then leave. You're good at that."

Before he could respond, before he could make her feel guilty for holding his leaving against him for as long as she has, Regina turned on her heel and hurried away, refusing to call herself a coward when all she was doing was protecting herself. Robin stood on the sidewalk, watching her disappear through the doors leading up to the mayor's office, before his eyes closed and he swore.

Unbeknownst to him, Regina did the same, pressing her back against her office doors and sliding down them until she sat on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest.

* * *

_**NOTES**: Yup! Two new chapters in one day. I feel like I owe it to you guys aha. Now, this was again prompted to me over on Tumblr and, to be honest, I think it's one of my favourites. Right alongside Page. 23 and Power and Control. I won't be throwing in a new installment until I've posted the last chapter of Four Minutes, but I'll also be working on my new fic which is currently very hush hush. But keep prompting me guys! I love prompts, and I love writing, and I'll try and write a new one every day, even if I don't publish them until later. :)))_


	7. Chapter 7

_**AU**/CROSSOVER: Stripper AU_

_**NOTES**: Scroll down._

* * *

_**TOUGH LOVER**_

* * *

The lights are bright on stage. It's a stark contrast compared to the shadows that hide the floor, where men _( and women )_ sit in booths or on stools, money in their hand, a drink in the other. (_ That is, if their hands aren't down their pants. )._ Robin shifted in his seat, his arms firmly crossed over his chest as he tries vehemently not to watch the red head currently dry humping his friend beside him. At least Killian's enjoying himself. The same could not be said for Robin.

He'd tried avoiding tonight.

_'Roland's sick.' _

_'I've got work.'_

_'I forgot.'_

But he had to run out of excuses eventually.

It was inevitable.

Robin turned away, his hand curled around the _( surprisingly )_ clean mug of beer he'd ordered half an hour ago. It's warm now, and he grimaces as he chugs a good mouthful or two back. An elbow pushes in to his side, but he ignores it. Because it was probably just Sarah, or Sasha, or something with an S. The girl Killian's pawing at. Robin didn't get her name. He leaned forward over the table, elbows up and beer in hand, eyes firmly planted on the table as he contemplated just how much longer he had to stay here. But there's the elbow again, and he grunts, finally glances to the side, to John. His oldest friend, and perhaps the only one amongst the group who is as uncomfortable here as he is. He waved John off, and the sympathetic _'you okay?'_ look the bigger man gave him.

He finished his drink with three full swallows.

It's not even ten.

"Cheer up, mate."

Robin looked to Will, who sat slumped back on the other side of the table, and the only reason he knew he'd spoken at all was because Will just so happened to be in his line of sight at the time, and Robin's pretty good at reading lips. "We're gettin' to the good stuff now." Robin's brow quirked upward, he smiled crookedly in disbelief because he doesn't think anything about this is good. He only came tonight because his best friend near begged.

Damn it, John.

The lights on stage begin to dim, and Robin's vision of his friends, of the people he sits amongst, lessons. All he sees is darkness, but he can hear the anticipation in the room. People shift in their seats, the sound of bills being ruffled accompany whispers. Even Killian straightens up, he can feel the Irishman's arm bump his own as the girl he'd had on his lap disappears. "Just wait, Robin. You'll be thanking me later." Robin paid little attention to Killian as he leaned away, his focus now completely on the stage, and the woman who'd appeared on it.

He says woman, because all the dancers he'd glimpsed over the course of an hour had been girl's. But this black-haired beauty is... stunning. Absolutely stunning. And she's the only one who hasn't come out already baring her breasts. He watches her as she moves. At first she just stands there, her head bowed, hair hiding her face from the rest of the world. From him. But then music starts to play, and it's nothing like it had been before. It's slow and smooth, sensual in a way that the other girl's hadn't quite mastered. She's not old. No, no, no. But she is older. Her hips start to sway, and her arms rise above her head. Her head lolls from one side to the other, before tipping back and allowing the light to fall on her face.

Her dark, red lips are parted, and her eyes are closed as she sways in time to the music, turning and twisting, doing things with her body that imply a flexibility many of the men in here will no doubt fantasise about late at night, if they aren't already. _( Robin will, even if he won't admit it. )_ He watches her dance, watches her move across the stage, down stairs, perch on one man's lap and play idly with his tie. When he makes a move to touch her, she pushes him back and laughs, and Robin imagines he can hear her over the numerous voices calling out _'Baby, come here!'_ and _'Take it off!'_.

She's back on stage and Robin hasn't taken his eyes off her. Maybe it's magic, he thinks. Because no one else has managed to capture his attention like this woman has. Not since Marian, at least. And he's not stupid enough, or hopeful enough, to think that love at first sight is a thing. And he might be prejudice, but he doesn't think it would apply to a stripper who's name he doesn't even know. No matter how captivating she is.

But it has to be magic, because he can't stop watching. Even when she finishes, with a few articles of clothing on the floor and she's not quite bare but she's pretty damn close, even when the lights fade and they are once again shrouded in darkness, only for light to flicker back on and she is gone. He's still staring at the spot she'd last stood.

He stays for another half hour. Order's another drink, endures several of his mate's crass humour. But it's getting late, it's almost ten-thirty, and for a single dad, that means he's past his bed time. So he stands, drops two fifties on the table because the boys, by the time they leave, will probably be too drunk to remember to pay their tab, and they can just shout him dinner next week. A proper dinner, with steak and fries and a big baked potato. He clapped his hand on John's back, who is staring up at a girl who gyrates above him with wide eyes. It was his first time to a strip club, just like it was Robin's.

Robin weaves his way through the club, bumping in to tables and narrowly avoiding a man carrying a good ten or twelve shots of something that Robin thinks might kill him if he had just one. He has to turn down a girl, who steps in front of him as he passes the bar and nears the very small, very narrow hall that leads towards the exit. He's backing away, with a very polite smile and his hands raised up, his head shaking from side to side, and he doesn't see the person behind him as he tries to make his escape. "Excuse me," someone snaps as his back bumps against a shoulder.

He tries to turn, but they've stacked a bunch of boxes right in the middle of the hall so it's a pretty tight squeeze. He has to inhale and suck in his gut just to turn around and, _'maybe it's time for a trip to the gym,'_ he thinks before he catches sight of the woman he'd run in to.

And it's her.

Her hair is up, tied in to a rather messy ponytail, short though it may be. He can't help himself when he glances down, he'll apologise for checking her out later, but right now his mind has turned to paste as he recognises the boots she wears. The same ones she'd worn on stage. And it makes him wonder if the coat she wears is hiding more than it's supposed to. Or, considering their current location, less than. She clears her throat and his eyes snap up. He can feel heat begin to rise in his cheeks and wow, okay, now he's blushing. Thank god none of the boys saw him, otherwise he'd never live it down. "My apologies," he manages to say and she raises one eyebrow at him, shakes her head and mutters _'whatever'_ under her breath. He should probably squeeze past her, make his way out in to the cold night air and hail a cab to take him home. He still has to clean the place up for Roland's return, his four year old having decided that a sleepover at Aunt Emma's was absolutely how he wanted to spend his Friday night.

But he doesn't.

He stands perfectly still and watches her as she rummages through her bag, looking for something. Keys, or a wallet. It doesn't really matter much in the long run, but he finds himself wondering which one it is anyway. When she breathes a sigh of relief and pulls out a phone, he curses mentally. He was betting on keys. Finally, she starts walking towards the exit and he follows two steps behind her. Not that that's strange or anything. It just so happened that they were going in the same direction.

He does think though, as he watches the bouncer open the door for her a good few seconds before she get's any closer, that ten-thirty at night is an awfully early time for someone of her occupation to be leaving. And it's not that he was actively listening in on her phone call. She's just talking a little loudly.

"Was everything okay?"

"Did he eat?"

"How much do I owe you?"

"No."

"I'm paying you."

"I don't care, Ruby."

"... are you sure?"

"Just this week. Okay?"

"Okay... Did he finish his homework?"

Robin pulls himself away then, because at first he'd thought she'd been talking about a dog, or a cat, or some kind of pet. He didn't think she was talking about a child. Her child. She's a mother. And that has just completely thrown him for a loop because, well, he was raised a certain way, with certain morals, and he never thought to think of people who took off their clothes for money as anything other than wrong. And maybe it still is. Maybe she's a terrible mother, who's son will probably grow up to hate women and earn himself a juvie record a mile long.

And if he could slap himself right now, he would.

Because he was better than that.

He shouldn't assume something of people he knows nothing about.

So he fishes his own cell out of his pocket, slides his finger across the screen and calls for a cab, trying very hard not to look at the woman who'd had him awe-struck with a simple sway of her hips. His finger tapped the side of his phone as he stood on the curb, and he cleared his throat. Not to get her attention. No. The air is cold and there's a slight breeze, and there might be a bit of a tickle in his neck that he hopes isn't the flu. But still... it get's her attention anyway. From the corner of his eye, he sees her look at him, hand raised to her ear and lip caught between her teeth as she nods, realises this 'Ruby' can't see her, and manages to croak out an 'Okay. Be home soon.' before she hangs up and drops her hand down.

The only sound now is the music from both the club behind them, and one up the road. There's a siren a few blocks away, slightly muffled but nevertheless heard, and the silence between them now is almost awkward. He doesn't cope well with awkward. Robin turned, gripping his phone in one hand and extending the other out as he steps forward with one foot, leans a little closer and opens his mouth to introduce himself when she interrupts him, stepping back and glaring at him with dark, dark brown eyes.

"Touch me, and I'll scream."

Robin's hands rise immediately, palms up and he backs away a step or two. "Whoa, I wasn't - I just wanted to say hello."

This woman has serious trust issues, he thinks, but in all fairness, she works at a strip club and he'd followed her outside, where the street is practically empty save for two drunk boys stumbling across the sidewalk on the other side of the road, and a stray dog rooting through the trash in the gutter. Her eyes are narrowed, her gaze flickering from him to his phone to the door behind them, the one with the bouncer on the other side who probably knows her name.

And he realises... he wants to know it too.

"I'm Robin."

She stares at him a little longer, and he thinks that maybe this wasn't a good idea and when is this cab going to get here? But then she's talking, and he finds that with her voice directed at him, it's just as attractive. "You're not a regular." It's straightforward, and tinged with wariness, which he understands. But she still hadn't given him her name. Oh well. Maybe that will come later.

Robin nods, lips thinned as he shoves his hand _( and consequently, his phone )_ in to his pockets and shifts on his feet, an attempt at keeping warm that he realises she doesn't seem to need. "Nope." The woman nods, her pony tail swinging as she turns to look the other way, at the headlights that brighten the sidewalk. His cab is here. She steps forward, her hand half risen with her elbow bent and two fingers up. A flick of her wrist, and oh, she's hailing his cab. Okay. He is sorely tempted to stake his claim, to see if she pouts or grinds her teeth or nods politely. But he'll just call for another one, because she looks like she's in a bit of a hurry and yeah, maybe she is.

She does have a son at home, after all.

As she pulls the door open, effectively leaving him alone on the sidewalk at ten thirty at night, he bends slightly so she can see him through the window. One of his hands slip from his pocket and he holds it up, a wave without movement. "Goodnight," he quips with a smile, because this night wasn't terrible, and it was mostly because of her. The window's down, and he can see her looking at him, before a brief smile curves her lips, a smirk really, and he's left alone on the sidewalk at ten thirty at night, but at least he has her name.

"Regina."

* * *

_**NOTES**: So, I'm back. Sorry about that guys. I had to buy a new laptop and I just didn't have time to write but I finally made some, and this is the product of that time. I'm... not really sure where I was going with this. I didn't want to make Robin too... understanding, but I also didn't want to make him a dick. I'm not really sure I accomplished what I wanted but oh well. I will tell you this, it wasn't going to be a one-shot. This is one of the only ones that I actually wanted to turn in to a multi-chapter fic prior to writing it. Who knows. Maybe I will one day, if the reactions are good. As it is, I'm currently working on expanding one of the other one-shots I've posted. So, yeah. That's about it. Keep suggesting new one-shots guys. I need all the inspiration I can get!_


	8. Chapter 8

_**AU**/CROSSOVER: Undercover Cop AU_

_**NOTES**: Scroll Down. _

_**WARNING**: Smut._

* * *

_**PROBABLE CAUSE**_

* * *

_'She's warm,' _he thinks as she tosses and turns, before settling under his arm, curled up against his chest. Warm, and soft. Bare beneath the sheets that drape over her hips. When she breathes, her chest rises slowly, before falling with a deep exhale, and she looks younger when she sleeps, softer.

It's hard to believe that she's a killer. That she has blood on her hands, innocent blood, blood that she spilled. He licked his lips, ignoring the slight discomfort at the beard that he's still not quite used to, as he stared at the ceiling, and the fan directly above them.

His apartment is... well, it's not really an apartment. It's a room with a bed, a tv, and an isolated area for the kitchen. He doesn't get a bathroom. Oh no. That's located downstairs, and he has to share it with all the other ex-cons. _( It's a miracle none of them recognized him, but then, they're not exactly the smartest of people. )_ But it's the ceiling fan that bothers him the most.

Because it squeaks.

But tonight is different. Tonight he finds it soothing, mostly because it drowns out the sound of Regina breathing beside him, content and sated and, dare he say it, happy. And he doesn't want to hear that. He doesn't want the guilt to reappear, to settle deep in his heart, making him feel sick to his stomach, like he's doing something wrong.

He's not. He knows he's not. But at the same time, he can't help but feel like he is. She's dangerous. If not because of her name than because of her charm, her smile... her eyes.

He could love her.

He probably already does.

And that's not good.

It's against the rules.

Xavier's. His. And the LAPD's.

The weight of his badge feels heavy, even though it's stowed away in a hole in the wall, plastered over alongside his service gun. It's never felt heavy before. Not like this, at least. Maybe that's why the department has these rules. Because falling for the granddaughter of an arms dealer isn't exactly in the _'how to be an undercover cop'_ handbook.

It'd probably kill him faster than being a cop would.

"Robin?" She hums his name softly, still half-asleep but a quick glance down has his gaze meeting hers, one eye open and a sleepy smile pressing in to his bicep. "What's wrong?"

He could tell her. He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but he could. She might hate him, she might turn him in, but at least she'd know the truth, at least his conscience would clear. He could tell her. But he doesn't. Instead, he smiles at her, bowing his head to kiss her temple before rolling her over on to her back, his arm trapped beneath her as he hovers above. "How could anything be wrong when I'm sharing my bed with a very beautiful, very naked, Regina Mills?"

The smile she flashes borders that of a smirk, but he can see the slight tint of red to her cheeks, the beginning of that sparkle in her eye that he'd had to work so hard to find. It thickens his throat with guilt, and self-loathing, and what he knows in his heart is love.

Regina smiles again, rising up as best she can with a palm pressed gently against his cheek until she can dip her head backwards and seal his lips with hers, a sweet and gentle kiss that soon grows heated. She sighs happily, and he closes his eyes, pretending that this isn't nearly as complicated as it actually is.

He trails kisses up her jaw and then down her neck, taking extra care to suck on her throat, where he can feel and hear her moan vibrate. Her hand moves, sliding down his cheek to his shoulder, where her finger curl and dip his skin. She arches in to his touch, in to the heat of his body and the pleasure it brings.

Robin loves the way she reacts to him. He loves the way she shivers when he drags his fingertips down between the valley of her breasts, down her stomach and over her ribs. He loves the way her breath hitches as he swirls his tongue over her nipple, pulling away only far enough to purse his lips and blow. He loves the way she whines when he dips two of his fingers inside her, only to find that she is already wet and slick and so, so ready. She always is. He loves that too. He loves how snugly he fits, how she's still tight enough to stretch around him but not too tight where he's afraid she'll break if he moves too fast, or too hard.

He loves how vocal she is, how she'll scream if she wants, or moan, or gasp. She'll slam her palm against the wall behind her, she'll dig her nails in to his sides, his back, grit her teeth and curse like a sailor. He loves hooking his arms under her knees, drawing them as high up his waist as he can, until they're bent back and she is even tighter, even snugger, warmer, wetter, louder. He loves when she's on top, her hands in her hair or pressed flat against his chest, her knees digging in to his hips as she gyrates, rocking forward and rolling back. He loves when she comes. She tenses, her whole body drawn tight. Her breath catches, her chest heaves and her thighs quiver.

She is loud at first but when she's ready, when she's seconds away from coming undone, she falls quiet. She grits her teeth and closes her eyes, whines in the back of her throat or muffles her cries in the pillow, the sheets, his neck. It's only when they fuck, when they go hard and fast and rough, when pools of sweat and cum_ ( and on one occasion, Regina's very wet, very messy release ) _\- it's only then that she cries out, chokes on her words of unintelligible babble. She'll curl in to herself then, twist and turn and try to push him away. He loves that too. He loves everything about her, about them...

Fuck.

They fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, waking only once the sun becomes too hard to ignore. They stay cuddled together for a few more minutes, until Regina finally drags herself out of his bed. She stretches, naked and bare and he finds himself utterly enamoured with her. Which she knows, if the smirk she flashes his way over her shoulder is anything to go by. He watches her as she stands, pads over to his kitchen, rising on her toes at the cold tiles beneath her feet until she's gotten used to them, and she starts to root around his measly refrigerator, looking for something to eat.

Robin turns on to his back, his arms raised above and under his head, as he stares at the ceiling, in the exact same position as he was in the night before, only with Regina on the other side of the room. The flash of his cell distracts him for a moment, and with a quick glance over at Regina, he rolls on to his side and sits up, feet planted on the floor as he reaches for his phone and flips it open, bending over with his elbows on his knees as he squints at the text.

And he swears.

"Shit!"

He's on his feet instantly, rummaging around the floor for something to wear, whether it's clean or not, it doesn't matter. He's late for a check-in with the Chief, and if he doesn't get in contact with his handler soon, they'll assume he's been compromised and, well. That's not good.

"Robin?"

He's throwing a t-shirt on over his head when he looks at her, standing with one ankle crossed over the other, foot pointed on the floor as she leans against the refrigerator, the door open in front of her and her head is cocked to the side, one of her eyebrows is raised, and she looks at him in concern, with maybe a little amusement thrown in.

"It's fine. I'm fine. I'm just late for something. I have to go but, uh, you stay. Eat. Sleep. I'll be back or, I don't know, we can meet up later?" Her lips part with an answer that he really, really doesn't have time for, so as he buckles his belt and zips up his jeans, he wanders over and presses his lips to the side of her head, muttering _'love you,'_ against her temple before he rushes out the door, leaving her standing in his kitchen wide-eyed, confused, and naked.

It's not until two streets away that he stops in the middle of the sidewalk, causing one old man with a bag full of clothes to knock in to him, and swear in a language even Robin doesn't recognise - it's not until then he realises he'd told Regina Mills that he loves her.

... fuck.

* * *

_**NOTES**: This is actually not a one-shot. It will be a two-shot. When will I post part two? I'm not sure yet. But it probably won't be the next chapter I post. Who knows. I decided to make it a two-shot because I didn't think it was fair to end it there, when you guys didn't get to see Regina finding out that Robin's a cop. So... that will be part two of this two-shot. I hope I am forgiven through the somewhat detailed, somewhat small amount of smut that is in this chapter. Anyway, let me know what you think. Thank you guys so much for all of your support and feedback. Keep prompting! Xo._


	9. Chapter 9

_AU/**CROSSOVER**: The Walking Dead._

_**NOTES**: Scroll down._

_**WARNING**: Smut._

* * *

_**BAD BLOOD**_

* * *

She doesn't love him. Hell, she doesn't even like him. But he's a warm body and a good fuck, and all she really cares about is whether or not he can satisfy her. Which he can… and the smug bastard knows it, too.

The first time happened because they'd come across an abandoned country club and found a bottle of Jack Daniel's. Liquor was hard to come by these days. Kind of like decent food and good company. Half a bottle of warm whiskey later, a considerably amount of insults thrown his way, and she'd had Robin on his back with his pants down around his ankles.

Not that he was complaining.

But they didn't even get to finish before the banging on the door they'd boarded up got too loud, the wood beginning to crack under the pressure of at least a dozen starved undead assholes vying for fresh meat. It was a shame too. She'd been really close to coming for the first time in almost a year. At the hand of someone else, that is.

Oh well.

Dying mid-orgasm wasn't nearly as appealing as it sounded anyway.

So that first time kind of failed. But three days of avoiding eye contact and pretending nothing happened was almost as irritating as him saving her life had been. And Regina'd been in a constant state of aroused frustration since the club, something she was sure he'd picked up on.

"Are you okay?"

God, that had been annoying. Just because she'd practically thrown herself at him in a moment of weakness, alcohol mixing with self-loathing and a touch of desperation, he thought she was one wrong word away from putting a bullet through his head.

Or hers.

"I'm fine." She spat, nose scrunched in annoyance as she glared at him. But then she hesitated, and shook her head with an exaggerated shrug. "No, actually, you know what? I'm not fine. I'm not okay. I'm hungry, and tired, and cold, and I'm fucking horny. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?"

Robin really knew how to push her buttons though, how to rile her up, because all he did was smile, dimples at full throttle, and she considered whether or not she could wrap her hands around his neck well enough to actually strangle him. "If I say yes, will you shoot me?"

No.

"Yes."

All he did was smile. Which balanced out well since she never did. She hasn't in a long time. Since this whole thing started, actually. And that annoying, teeth-showing, dimple-producing grin of his was really starting to get on her nerves. Regina glared at him again, with her eyes narrowed and her jaw locked, before she parted her lips to retort, and maybe he just wanted to shut her up, or maybe he was just as frustrated as she was, because he silenced her with a hard, lip-bruising kiss that had her forgetting how to breathe.

The cabin they'd found, which was really more like a shack, in her opinion, was no where near clean, or comfortable, or romantic. But she didn't care about cleanliness anymore, and she hadn't been comfortable in months, and romance… well, that was pretty much non-existent these days. They ended up fucking on a bed with a mattress that had springs sticking out of it. It creaked with every move they made, and at one point, she'd even thought it would break on them. But at least it was secure, and it stopped them from getting soaked by the storm outside. Which, in the end, they were thankful for. Since Regina had never been a quiet lover and he'd spilled himself inside her with a very loud "Fuck!".

It was a little awkward the next morning, when she woke up cuddled in to his side with his arm slung around her shoulders. He'd already been awake _( of course )_, and had been staring at the ceiling until she started to stir. He'd turned his head to look down at her as her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light and she was still somewhat asleep, he could tell, but that didn't stop her from noticing the small smile he sported.

That was new.

It took her a while to wake up, at the time. But once she'd realised that they were close to, pretty much, spooning, her eyes had widened before she scowled at him and shrugged his arm away. "Shut up," she'd growled through her teeth, swinging her legs over the side of the bed before bending to pick up her clothes. He just laughed, and she scowled even harder.

Asshole.

At least she didn't have that burning ache in the pit of her stomach anymore, and at least it wouldn't return. Because they'd gone from reluctant _( on Regina's part ) _apocalypse-surviving, travel buddies, to reluctant apocalypse-surviving, travel buddies who just so happened to have sex.

And they didn't stop, even when they'd stumbled across a group of people who didn't try to eat them on sight. Regina had never been very good at making friends, but Robin was a social butterfly, apparently. Whatever. She didn't care. As long as she had a place to sleep and food to eat, and Robin didn't leave her for the red head who reminded Regina way too much of her sister, she was fine.

She wasn't happy.

But she was fine.

It was strange though. Because though she still found herself annoyed with everything Robin said and did, she also had to work harder to suppress a fond smile. It didn't strike her until she'd pulled him away from the group, citing a search for nearby water, that she was getting attached.

As in, _'close to but not quite near I think I might like you'_ kind of attached.

And that was terrifying.

So maybe this wasn't the best place to do this, and maybe she should've just walked away, but she hadn't really been thinking straight and they were close enough to camp for it to be relatively safe, ( Relatively being the key word here. ), so why not?

Regina turned on her heal, one hand pressed firmly against his chest to stop him from walking in to her. She swallowed, staring up at him quietly, before she rose on her toes and curled her fingers in his shirt, dragging him down to meet her half-way, where she kissed him with vigor. Her tongue slipped passed her lips and ran along his lower one, her teeth catching as she pulled away and he groaned, followed her with hands that fell to her hips.

He walked her backwards, until she felt the bark of a tree scrape her back gently. "Regina," he muttered, his lips peppering kisses along her jaw and down her neck. The hand not currently grasping his shirt tightly, rose to his hair and her fingers ran through his untidy locks. "Shut up."

"Re-"

"Shut up!"

She didn't need him whispering sweet nothings in her ear, or moaning her name like it was the last thing he'd ever say. She needed him to fuck her, hard and unforgiving, until her legs were weak and her back scratched raw. She needed to feel something other than what she thought she was feeling now, what she refused to feel again, and to do that, she needed him to stop talking.

The only way to do that was to kiss him.

He obeyed, biting his tongue and then moaning when she bit his lip instead. His hands roamed her sides, moving up underneath her camisole. Cold fingers walked along her warm, soft skin, tickling her ribs, though she found it felt rather nice. Her breath hitched twice as he lifted her up, his arms dropping to her legs as they wrapped around his hips. Regina could feel him straining in his jeans, already hard and practically begging to be released.

She pushed away from him a little, ignoring his slight stutter of surprise, but she needed more than just dry humping in the middle of the woods before night fall. Regina's hands dropped to her shorts, and she bowed her head to watch herself unbutton them. Her hair fell in to her face and she blushed a little, than swore for blushing at all, and she fumbled with the zipper. From the corner of her eye, she could see Robin dropping his own trousers, letting them pool around his ankles and that was fine for him, he didn't need to spread his legs but Regina…

She inhaled sharply as his hands appeared on either side of her hips, and she stubbornly refused to raise her head as he helped her ease her shorts down her thighs, until they dropped to the floor and she could step out of them easily. Her head remained bowed, and she continued to stare at the ground with a crease in her brow and they didn't really have time for in-depth contemplation. They'd be expected back at camp soon and they were in a ridiculously vulnerable position right now. The only security they had was their own hearing, but at the moment, Regina couldn't hear anything.

She felt light-headed, and sick to her stomach.

She didn't love him.

She absolutely, didn't love him.

But then he tilted his head and tried to catch her gaze with his own, his hand rising to rest against her cheek, and she looked up to meet blue eyes staring at her knowingly, kindly. And she felt her heart stop. "I–" she tried, but he just shook his head and stepped forward. She looked up then, tears pooling in her eyes because for fucks sake, she didn't want this. She didn't need this. If she loved him, and then she lost him, she's not sure she'd survive. So she couldn't, even though she wanted too.

And god, did she want too.

He kissed her softly, a mere brushing of his lips against hers, and there was no desperate need for release behind it. No _'shut up or we'll die'_ implied. It was just a kiss, but it meant so much more. "I know," he mumbled quietly, pulling away to rest his forehead against her own and she choked out a laugh as her eyes closed, and they simply stood there.

Until she tilted her head back and kissed him again, harder than he had kissed her, but nonetheless sweet. He lifted her easily, his arms locking around her lower back, and she let him hold her up for a second or two, before hooking her legs around his waist and arching her back.

He was still as hard as he had been a few minutes ago, and she felt a familiar ache between her legs as he moaned her name, and she let him. Biting her lip, Regina dropped one arm to wrap warm fingers around his length and he twitches at her touch, as she pumped his cock in her hand with a slow flick of her wrist once, twice, three times. His hips start to rock and a sound catches in her throat, her inner thighs growing slick with her arousal and she whimpered softly, arched her back a little further before eagerly guiding him towards her sex.

He rests there for a heartbeat, before a quick, hard thrust has him buried half-way. Regina cried out, her teeth clamping shut in an effort to keep quiet, just in case they attract any unwanted attention. ( This really, really isn't the best place to be doing this. ). Her hand remained trapped between them, but it was at the perfect position for her to extend two fingers and press down on her clit. That only proved to be a mistake, because she's just too close already for such stimulation, and her next moan breaks through the fingers of the hand she'd used to cover her mouth. Her eyes opened, only to meet his staring at her with a look she couldn't describe, and she whimpered again as he pulled back and thrust forward, clenching his teeth at the feel of her wet and warm and tight.

Regina bucked, shaky and sloppy, and he almost slipped completely out of her but he was strong, and he managed to hoist her up the tree a little higher and reposition, thrusting forward and burying himself to the hilt. She clenched around him, her stomach tensing with every rock of his hips and that light-headed feeling began to return as his elbows tightened in to her sides and the palms of his hands pressed harder in to the small of her back.

He watched her writhe, her legs getting tighter and tighter around his hips and trapping him closer and closer. She was so incredibly wet that he met no resistance as he picked up his pace and fucked her a little faster, a little harder. She cried out again, a strangled sound tearing from her throat, and the sound of leaves rustling could be heard as she fell silent.

Robin stopped moving, as did Regina, and both turned their head in the direction they'd heard movement. Regina was so close, so incredibly close, that she didn't have the self-control to step away from him - just in case.

They didn't need to.

It was just a rabbit.

_( If they'd been thinking about anything else, they'd have tried to catch it for something decent to eat for dinner, for a change. But all she could think about was how different this felt compared to every other time they'd had sex, and all he could think about was how good she felt wrapped around him. )_

Her head lolled to the side as his attention returned to her, his lips attaching to her neck and his teeth dragging along her skin and she gasped, her eyes fluttered closed as she lifted her hips towards his and back against the tree, over and over and over again until she was just as close as she had been before, just needing something extra, something more, to tip her over the edge.

He readjusted, and different angle allowed him to brush her clit with each thrust and it wasn't long before she was sinking her teeth in to his shoulder, the only way to keep her sufficiently quiet. She fluttered around him, velvet walls clenching tight enough to invite his own release, and they came together. Sweat glistened their skin as they tried to catch their breath, and her legs dropped to the floor. She had to lean back against the tree some more just to keep herself standing upright, but he didn't move far enough away for her falling to be an issue.

When she opened her eyes, they locked with his own and, whilst trying to catch her breath, she rolled her eyes and muttered, "Shut up," with a smile.

* * *

_**NOTE**: So, I realised today that I actually didn't post this here. I posted it on Tumblr but I must have forgotten to update it here. Oh well. Better late than never. I love The Walking Dead, it's one of my all time favourite shows. And, I've always loved the idea of Regina and the gang in that kind of environment. So, here it is. Also, thank you everyone for your support, especially in regards to the last chapter. Probably Cause will probably be the next instalment, if not, then the one after that. Keep prompting guys! I love writing for you. Xo._


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